Vice, Virtue & Video: Revealed (The Vice, Virtue & Video Series)

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Vice, Virtue & Video: Revealed (The Vice, Virtue & Video Series) Page 4

by Bianca Giovanni


  Brenda chuckles at our playfulness, and Jonathan seems unenthused. Big surprise.

  “That’s wonderful news, honey,” Brenda cheerfully praises James.

  “Thanks, Mom.” He smiles broadly.

  “So you’re gonna get all primped and pretty for your big photo spread?” Jonathan teases.

  “Do I detect a hint of envy? He’s already pretty, Jonathan,” I reply, shooting him a look that dares him to keep going. Please, Jonathan, please test me because I would love to go toe-to-toe with you on the subject of your brother.

  I feel James reach for my hand under the table, and he weaves his long fingers into mine. “Thanks, babe.” He winks at me.

  Brenda seems joyfully amused by our exchange, and she looks from me to James like she’s picturing what our children would look like. I know she secretly wishes we were boyfriend and girlfriend so he’d settle down and quit his playboy antics. If she only knew the extent of those antics, she’d realize that this guy has no chance of settling down anytime soon.

  I ask Brenda about how things have been going for her and Jon. She’s still in accounting, but she says she’s planning to retire soon. She’s doing all sorts of art projects, which are apparently driving Jon crazy. James tells me she’s really good at decoupage, and she says she’ll make me something to take with me to college. She tells me that Jon got a big contract with the city and he’s doing the landscaping for the justice center and the library, both of which have huge open spaces that he could really go wild with.

  Both of James’s parents are creative, but in very practical ways. Jon has a real eye for outdoor design, and he can tell you everything there is to know about every species of tree you’d ever want to plant in your yard. He’s a genius with horticulture, and he can transform even the smallest back yard into a virtual wonderland of flowers and shrubs. Brenda was always a numbers kind of woman, a total math wiz, but she always liked making things too. She made jewelry when we were kids, and I still have a bracelet she gave me when I was eleven. After that, she got into painting, and she showed some serious talent. She even sold one of her works to a local coffee shop, and they have it hanging on the wall to this day. I think this is why James likes cooking so much. He’s genetically predisposed to enjoy preparing something with his hands, and he comes up with his own recipes like a flavor artist.

  Jonathan seems bored as we chat about Jon and Brenda’s adventures as empty-nesters. She wants to go to Niagara Falls and do a big outdoorsy thing for the Fourth of July with her brother and sister, who live out east. He wants to go to Minnesota to spend the holiday with his younger sister. It’s a running argument between them, and it seems cute. She also says she wants to go on a big trip to Aruba or somewhere with sprawling beaches and lots of sun. Jonathan rolls his eyes at this idea, but I tell her I think it’s great. She says Jon shares his son’s sentiment and thinks they should choose an easier vacation spot, like Cozumel or Cancun.

  James’s parents bicker, but you can tell they really love each other. I’ve always liked being around them because they’re such a normal, all-American, happy family. My parents got divorced when I was really little, and my dad’s a total jerk, so it’s cool to have that Leave It To Beaver world right next door.

  After breakfast, Brenda drives us all home and wishes me luck with my test. Jonathan seems a bit perturbed that he didn’t get to elaborate on his many accomplishments, but neither James nor I care to hear more about how wonderful he is and how everybody loves him so much.

  James walks me to my door, and I see a big smile on Brenda’s face when he brushes my hair behind my ear and takes my face in his hands, planting a big kiss on my forehead. Part of me wishes James and I were together, just to keep that smile on her face forever. I’ve never had a boyfriend, and though my mom knows James’s reputation, I think even she assumes he’s the only guy I’ll ever be this close with. The moms seem to have these fanciful visions of us becoming a couple and growing into upstanding citizens with two-point-three children and a yellow Lab running around the front yard. I hate to break it to them, but that ain’t gonna happen. I care for James to an astronomical extent, but I strongly doubt some nerdy virgin would ever stack up for a guy who just participated in an all-anal MILF gangbang scene a few weeks ago. James fucks a different girl every day, and sometimes multiple girls each day, so we’re basically on different planets when it comes to our idea of romance and relationships.

  “I’m going to a party tonight, but I’ll be over tomorrow afternoon when you’re getting ready for prom.” He smiles at me as he stands on the porch.

  “Okay.” I nod, returning the smile with a cheerful grin of my own.

  “Bye, kid,” he says, giving me one more kiss on the forehead and turning to go home.

  I sigh and laugh at myself. I can’t believe how much I missed having him around. Something as small as a kiss on the forehead can put a smile on my face for an entire day, and it’s only now that I realize how much I yearn for those tiny, inconsequential, but incredibly touching affections.

  Chapter 5

  James

  “NO CHANCE! NO CHANCE he’s gonna make this putt!” my buddy, Joey Corsentino, loudly predicts as Keegan lines up on the green.

  Joey and I were really tight in high school, but it’s been a while since I got the chance to hang out with him. He’s going to school up at the university and working part time in his parents’ bakery, so he’s been too busy to do anything the past couple times I’ve visited.

  He passes me the huge joint we’ve all been sharing, and I start cracking up at the way Keegan’s concentrating like he’s trying to crack a safe.

  This ain’t the country club. Today, we’re golfing on the shitty, run-down course on the outskirts of town. They don’t have golf carts, the grass is dry and dying, and one time we almost got attacked by a rabid raccoon out by the sixth hole. But they have no rules, and most people just come here to smoke weed while they play.

  “Where’d you get this shit, man?” I ask, taking a big hit off the joint.

  “Becky Callahan’s brother,” he answers with a shrug, like it’s common knowledge.

  “Charlie’s selling weed now?” I laugh loudly.

  Becky was one of my sort-of girlfriends in high school. Her family was rich and she was all prim and proper in public, but she dug being tied up and spanked in the bedroom. Her younger brother was a little shit-starter, so it’s totally fitting that he’d become a drug dealer.

  “Kid’s a bad motherfucker nowadays.” Joey chuckles. “That family better start savin’ up some bail money.”

  I snicker and turn my attention back to Keegan, who’s finally decided on the fuckin’ putt like this is the goddamn Masters. He hits it, and it drops in the cup. I clap, since both Joey and I were sure he’d miss, and he does one of those Tiger Woods fist pumps, which makes me laugh harder.

  “You’re up, smart-ass,” he says to Joey.

  Keegan’s wearing golf shorts and a polo shirt, the kind of thing he’d wear when he plays at the country club with his dad, but Joey’s opted for an Armani Exchange T-shirt and a gold chain. He fancies himself to be some kind of Guido, even though he’s living out here in Middle America and not in Jersey. I’m just wearing some shorts and a T-shirt, keeping it simple. This course has no dress code, so you can pretty much wear anything. I’ve seen girls out here in bikini tops and booty shorts before.

  “If you miss it, you gotta do something fucked up,” Keegan says as Joey walks over to the green.

  “What is this, truth or dare?” Joey laughs.

  “Fuck you!” Keegan chuckles. “You were making me do stupid shit earlier.”

  A couple holes ago, Joey dared Keegan to take a huge hit off the joint and hold it in the whole time he putted. He did, and for a second, I thought he was going to pass out. Joey’s my age and Keegan’s two years younger, so they fuck with each other a lot.

  “You miss this one and you gotta play the entire next hole with your dick out,” Keeg
an proposes.

  “You really wanna see my dick that bad?” Joey teases.

  I laugh, which makes me cough as I take another hit.

  “Nah, dude, the next hole’s the one by the road, so if anybody drives by, they’re gonna see your tiny dick, and I’m gonna laugh my ass off,” Keegan replies.

  “No problem,” Joey says, looking down and aligning his shot. “I got this shit.”

  Sure enough, he misses and Keegan gloats. I pass him the joint and give Joey a shrug. A bet’s a bet.

  Keegan and I are cracking up when Joey drops his pants around his ankles and holds out his arms like he’s displaying it for the whole world to see.

  “Ladies, I’m open for business!” he yells.

  “Pull your shit up and let’s get to the next hole.” I laugh and shake my head.

  When it’s my turn at the tee, I manage to hit a pretty long drive. I hate golf, really, but me and the guys used to come out here a lot to hang out and talk shit.

  “Same rules as last hole?” Keegan asks when we get nearer to the green.

  “If I wanna see this asshole’s dick, all I need is Wi-Fi,” Joey teases.

  I laugh hard at that. My really close friends know about the whole porn thing, but I keep pretty much everybody else in the dark about it.

  “You ever do a movie with Tara Morgan?” Joey asks me. “That bitch is hot as fuck. Big ol’ titties, man,” he adds, holding out his hands to indicate the size of her boobs.

  “Last fuckin’ week, dude,” I say with a cocky grin.

  “Bullshit! How was that shit? She seems wild,” he asks.

  “She’s good. Really good blowjobs, and she’s all flexible and shit. It was a really fun scene to shoot.”

  “That’s such fuckin’ bullshit that you get to fuck girls like that and get paid for it.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I could do that shit, yo. ‘Yeah, come here, bitch! Get down on your knees and suck that cock!’” He says in this played-up macho way.

  I snicker, and Keegan hands me the joint. “It’s not really how you think, man. I mean, it’s cool to bang hot chicks and all, but you gotta stop for them to take stills, and there’s a lot of waiting around and shit. Plus everybody’s kinda giving you the stink eye because they just want you to come so they can break for lunch.”

  Keegan laughs hard at that description.

  “Yeah, but you still get to fuck those bitches,” Joey says. “You know what I would give to fuck a chick like Tara Morgan? I fucked this high school girl who looked kind of like her the other night at this party, but I bet she’s got nothin’ on the real thing.”

  “Dude, you can’t be fucking high school girls,” I say, shaking my head in disapproval. Fuckin’ Joey, always doing that kind of borderline sketchy shit.

  “Calm down, calm down,” he says, laughing. “She was legal, so don’t have a shit fit. Besides, I’m guessing some of the chicks in those movies are just barely eighteen, man.”

  He’s got a point. Most of the girls in the industry are young because the market for teen videos is huge. They’re all eighteen and up, but some of them do look like they’re still in high school. They play high school students all the time, too. Some girls rip on the industry because, by the time they’re in their mid-twenties, they’re playing MILFs and teachers and shit. I don’t mind working on those MILF videos, and I kind of like doing scenes with the older girls. Some of the craziest shit I did was with Mrs. Landry back when I was in school, and I find that the older chicks in the industry don’t make all those fake moans the way the new girls do. I’m glad that guys in the business can have careers well into their thirties because I’m making way too much money to stop doing this anytime soon.

  “Besides,” Joey adds, “your chick is young.”

  “Who’s my chick?” I ask, genuinely confused.

  “Lola, man,” he says like it’s common knowledge.

  “Lola’s my chick?” I laugh. “I’m so sure.”

  “Now, now,” Keegan says, “you know he’d never touch the Virgin Mary herself.”

  I have to laugh at that. These assholes have been making fun of me for years for how I am with Lola.

  “All I’m sayin’ is, that bitch is hot as fuck and you know you could hit that,” Joey says like he’s trying to piss me off.

  “Never, dude.” I shake my head. “And I’ll bust your ass if you call her a bitch again.”

  “Yo, be honest—” he grins “—you ever seen her titties?”

  I don’t answer, and I try to suppress a guilty smile.

  “Yeah, you have!” He laughs, hitting my arm. “I bet they were nice, too. I remember that time at the pool party when she wore that bikini and her nipples got all hard when she got out of the water.”

  I continue to keep quiet, doing my best to scowl at him despite the fact that I also noticed her nipples that day and I’ve stored that memory with me for years now.

  “You think she shaves her pussy? Like maybe a landing strip? Or maybe she’s gone completely bare. Hairless girls are fuckin’ sexy.”

  “Dude, seriously, I’m about to knock you the fuck out,” I reply.

  “All I’m saying is, you could find out. I don’t know a single guy who’s ever even seen her naked, but your ass could do that, no problem.”

  “Abso-fuckin’-lutely not,” I firmly reply.

  Joey laughs hard and shakes his head at me like I’m hopeless. I don’t give a fuck what these guys think; I’m not laying a fuckin’ finger on Lola. Sure, she’s hot. She’s downright gorgeous, but I’d feel like I was violating her if I fucked her. She’s so far above every other girl that I can’t even consider trying to sleep with her.

  “We still hittin’ up that party tonight?” Joey asks.

  “Yeah, and I heard there are going to be a bunch of sorority girls there. So that plus alcohol and you should be in business, Keegan,” I tease.

  “You have your method, I have mine,” he says, chuckling.

  Joey and I snicker.

  “Yeah, Keegan, when was the last time you got laid, man?” he asks, putting his arm around Keegan in that big-brother kind of way.

  “Fuck you!” Keegan laughs.

  “Me and James are gonna hook you up,” he says. “You’ll be balls deep in some sorority bitch tonight.”

  I roll my eyes. Joey talks like this all the time, acting like he’s hot shit and every girl in the world is lining up to fuck him. There’s a difference between confidence and arrogance, and Joey’s off the deep end in the arrogance department. He calls me a pussy for it all the time, but I hate when he calls girls bitches and acts like they only exist to serve him. That shit is lame. I may fuck a lot, but it’s because I have a real appreciation for women. Lola used to call me Don Juan DeMarco, since I tend to find something beautiful about every girl I see. I don’t know what it is, but I just find something so sexy about a woman’s body and I like when girls lose their inhibitions and stop being all self-conscious. Too many of them are neurotic about how they look anyway, and it’s stupid because all of them are pretty in one way or another.

  “All right, you’re up, bro,” Keegan says, looking up at me.

  I take a deep breath and try to clear my head. Becky’s little brother sells some strong-ass weed. The guys are cracking up as I try to pull my shit together for my turn.

  I decided to make a run to the thrift store on my way back to my house to get my mom some old nature magazines and illustrated children’s books she can use for her decoupage. I stack them up on the kitchen table and write her a note saying that I think she’s really good and I hope she’ll find some good stuff in these to decorate more things with. I think she’ll appreciate it, and I like doing stuff for her.

  After that, I hop in the shower and start trying to decide a game plan for this party. A few hours later and me and the guys are pulling up outside this big house just up the mountain from town. There are people everywhere, almost like they’re spilling out from the doors and windows. Music is bumping, a
nd Joey and Keegan have their game faces on like men on a mission to get laid.

  I’m a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, and I have to roll my eyes at the Ed Hardy shirt and Sean Paul sunglasses Joey’s rocking tonight. What is he, a hip-hop producer? He looks like an Italian Scott Storch. Keegan just looks like every dude in here, that frat boy look that guys like him have from about age fifteen to thirty-five.

  We roll in the door, and I swear to God, I think Joey hears theme music. He’s walking around like he owns this place, and I’m trying really hard not to laugh. In fairness to him, he does know a lot of people here, but in his mind, he’s P. Diddy stepping into the club. I let him run off and do his thing, and I trail behind him slowly to try to get a little distance between me and the hip-hop caricature calling for everyone to do shots.

  I lean against the counter in the kitchen area and watch Joey do a body shot off a blond girl with a spray tan. Oh, yeah, this kid definitely thinks he’s the shit right now. I watch Keegan try to be on cool duty when a drunk brunette comes up and starts flirting with him. Good for him; he could never seal a deal if it weren’t for liquored up aggressive chicks. They gravitate to him. He’s just got one of those nice-guy faces, and drunk girls want to corrupt him. They come on to him way fuckin’ strong every time we go to parties and stuff like this.

  I give the guys a nod and decide to take a look around the place to see if there are any hot girls who aren’t spray tanned orange and stumbling out of their shoes. I spot a really pretty sandy-blond girl standing by herself over by the staircase. She’s got on a green tank top and a short jean skirt that shows off her natural tan—not something out of a bottle like a few of the girls here. She seems shy and timid, but she’s a total babe. She’s tall and has really long legs, a firm body like she runs or does yoga, nice boobs, blond hair in a ponytail, and light blue eyes like a Siberian husky.

 

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